


Forever Changed

by only_freakin_donuts



Series: Princess Diaries [4]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: (just in case you're sensitive to that!), Alzheimer's Disease, DID I MENTION THEY HAVE KIDS, Dementia, F/M, Fluff, i love writing these two, they're so touchy and fluffy and adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 05:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_freakin_donuts/pseuds/only_freakin_donuts
Summary: Forever Named, Forever Child, Forever Loved, Forever Changed. Or, rather, the three things that changed Lucy Preston's life forever."Being Mrs. Logan made her feel like a true princess, more than Rittenhouse ever could. This was the role she was truly destined for." ♡





	Forever Changed

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off Forever Changed by Carrie Underwood! :)
> 
> And as noted in the tags, please if you are sensitive to Alzheimer's Disease/Dementia, just be warned it is a factor in this fic, the last part especially deals with it really heavily.

I. Forever Named

She looks at him with only love in her eyes. 

Her baby, far from a baby anymore. A grown man, with broad shoulders and big hands, and the warmest, most inviting smile she’d ever known, just like his father’s. He sits by her bedside patiently, reads to her, the way she’s read to him for many bedtimes. He was gentle, and kind, and ravenously determined and successful.

“What’s the date today, sweet boy?” she asks him. To him, it’s out of nowhere; truthfully, she’d been looking into his eyes and reminiscing, thinking about his father and their young, glory days. She met Wyatt when he was this age, and their son was a spitting image of the rugged, closed off Delta Force soldier he was that day, at the front door of a whole new world all those years ago.  
“April fifth, Mom,” he answers.  
“It’s your dad and I’s anniversary tomorrow,” she smiles to herself.  
Archer smiles a knowing smile, a smirk passed down a generation. “I know he has something planned,” he acknowledges. He pulls up her blanket and kisses her forehead, soft lips on wrinkled, worn skin. “I won’t be by tomorrow, I’ll leave you two to your anniversary. AJ’s going to call you later.”  
Lucy nods, shutting her eyes, relinquishing into the night, drawing to a close. “I love you,” she tells him, reaching out to take his hand in hers.  
Archer gives it a squeeze and smiles himself. “I love you too, Mom. Get some rest, you have a big day tomorrow, so I hear.”  
“Your dad and his big gestures,” Lucy laughs. She could always count on Wyatt to sweep her off her feet, no matter the time or the place, or how many years it had been (or if he’d blow out his back trying to pick her up). 

She only has a few moments of quiet before a nurse comes in. “Mrs. Logan,” she announces, not to startle the frail woman, falling into slumber. “I have your pills and some water for you.”  
Lucy smiles, her eyes closed. Tomorrow would be her thirty-third wedding anniversary, and she still had a luminous smile on her face everytime someone called her Mrs. Logan. She took pride in it, it felt like it fit just right. She’d stopped taking pride in the Preston name when the Rittenhouse connections surfaced, of course not wanting to be proud of the fact that her bloodline was built on so much crooked bloodshed. Being Mrs. Logan made her feel like a true princess, more than Rittenhouse ever could. This was the role she was truly destined for.

She sits up and takes the pills from the kind nurse, swallows them with a gulp of water. “Would you like me to stay, we can play cards?” the nurse asks. Her name is Lana, she’s relatively new around here and she works part time while putting herself through school. Lucy could tell when they first met that she was a student, being surrounded by them most of her life; it comforted her to be around what she knew, and she knew Lana would be hardworking and smart. Some nights, when Lucy’s kids or Wyatt weren’t around and it was a little too early for bed, she’d stay. Lucy was her favourite patient, because she told her about all the things she’d seen, all the things she’d done, and how she’d hoped the young nurse could experience even some of them. (The lines were blurred, between what Lana believed and what she mistook for Lucy’s wilting memory and wild imagination…)  
“Actually Lana I’m waiting on a phone call from my daughter,” Lucy exclaims. “Thank you though.” 

When the phone rings not even an hour later, Lucy picks it up without looking at the number, expecting it to be AJ on the other end. “Hi sweetheart,” she answers.  
“I’m back to being sweetheart today?” Wyatt chuckles, amused. “Can I at least get the New England accent, babydoll?”  
Lucy laughs. “Sorry, babe, I was expecting AJ. Hi.”  
“Hi,” he smiles. “How’s your day been?”  
“I was with you only an hour ago,” Lucy laughs. He’s always making her laugh, even still. “I miss you anyways,” she says. “I’m glad I get to see you all day tomorrow.”  
“How do you know you’re seeing me all day tomorrow? Wyatt asks, his voice smooth and slick, so obviously leading her on, and so obviously kidding. Of course he wouldn’t miss their anniversary for anything. “What did Arch tell you? Boy’s so loose-lipped…”  
“He didn’t say anything!” Lucy laughs, defending her son. “He just told you had something planned.”  
“He is correct,” Wyatt nods. 

Lucy goes silent for a moment, cuddling into her bed, almost comfortable enough here on the phone with her husband to let his voice sing her to sleep. “You okay?” he asks her. “I’ll let you go if you’re tired, I’ll see you in the morning anyways.”  
“No, I like hearing your voice,” she tells him, though not denying she’s on her last limb of energy for the day. “I remember, 33 years ago, I could not sleep tonight. I was so nervous. I was at Jiya’s with her and Isaac…”  
“And Rufus was with me at our place,” Wyatt nods, remembering the night fondly. “I wasn’t nervous, I just missed you something fierce. Rufus distracted me with beer and tried to teach me to play some racing video game.”  
“Jiya and I had a spa night,” Lucy remembers. “Face masks and smelly candles and bathrobes. I was cursing the weather, stupid cold snap.”  
“It was cold for April,” Wyatt laughs. The cold was the reason Lucy was wearing his jacket over her pretty lace dress in some of their wedding pictures, including the one framed by his bedside. He remembered the way she looked that day as if it was just yesterday– that dress, straight out of the 40s, literally, the soft waves in her hair, and her faded red lipstick and heels. She looked beautiful, just as beautiful as she had every day of their marriage, and would look tomorrow and forever. 

Beside the picture, his favourite one, there’s a handwritten note; scraggly Gs and a messy mix of print and cursive, only that of a professor’s quick, paper-grading scrawl. His wife’s. Thirty-three years ago, in their creative days, they’d opted to write their own vows. Their lives and their love were so far from ordinary, they didn’t expect ordinary vows to cover even half of how they felt about each other. They were far from poets, but there wasn’t a dry eye in the church that day. In the frame beside their photo, Wyatt has the final draft Lucy wrote out, the words she’d rehearsed in front of the mirror, the ones she’d endlessly obsessed over, making sure they were as perfect as Wyatt was. 

Wyatt wasn’t sure of his vows, even still. He didn’t have the way with words that Lucy had; he wasn’t able to rewrite the letter of The Alamo, or a book. He wasn’t educated or even smart; he was just a man enamoured by a woman, trying to tell her just how much. And Lucy loved those words with all her heart, and had them framed with a photo from their wedding on her nightstand as well. She read them to herself, and she heard them in Wyatt’s voice.

“Lucy, I promise to be by your side, protecting you, empowering you, cheering you on, in every adventure we have together. I promise to respect you, even when you’re being the bossy know-it-all that you are, cause I know you’re right, and I even promise to admit it sometimes. I promise to trust you even when I don’t understand. I promise to make you laugh so hard that your eyes water, because I love it when you’re happy. And when you’re sad, I promise to hug you as long as you need and let you fall asleep in my arms. I promise to be the best partner that I can be; forever the Logan to your Preston. Wherever, whenever, we are. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to love you, and it’s the easiest promise that I’ve ever made.”

He read hers in her voice too, a smile so easily making its way across his face.

“Wyatt, I promise… I promise never to abandon your side. I promise to be your best friend and partner, in crime, in bedtime stories, in midnight pharmacy runs, and road-trips, and school projects, in all our experiences we share together. All that I am, I share with you. I share my good and my bad because I trust you with everything I have, because I know we are stronger than anything that could ever try to come between us. I promise to do my part in ensuring we are undefeatable for the rest of our lives. I promise to support you and make you feel as strong as you make me feel, as loved and as cherished and as extraordinary, even when the road gets rough. I promise to give you support when you need it, confidence, and a good laugh… even if it’s at my expense. I promise to try and be even half the person you are, for the rest of our lives.” 

“That day changed me,” Lucy acknowledges. “You changed me.”  
“You changed me,” he obliges. “That day changed me too.”  
“I love being married to you,” Lucy whispers, a light, tired giggle ending her sentence. “I miss you.”  
“I miss you too, babydoll,” he tells her in full, complete honesty. He hates that they have to be apart now… even if she’s only on the other side of the building. It was a very big building, and it felt like she was miles away. He misses sharing a bed with her, feeling her small body radiate heat and make him feel safe through the cold, Northern California nights. “Get some rest, Mrs. Logan. I’ll be there when you wake up. I love you.” 

He knows she loves to hear that, he can picture the smile on her face as she shuts her eyes and hangs up the phone. He loved being married to her every bit as much as she loved being married to him. He loved his Mrs. Logan.

 

II. Forever Child

“Mom, tell me I’m crazy,” AJ starts, plopping down on her mom’s bed. Her whole life, whenever she needed anything, that’s what she’d do- just plop down and flash her mom that smile of hers, the one Lucy could never say no to (...unfortunately, especially when she had AJ and her carbon copy running around– being the mom of identical twins was always an adventure).  
“Never, dear,” Lucy grins. “What’s up?”

AJ takes her mom’s wrist and guides her hand onto her belly, over a faded tattoo and a scar. Lucy responds with a questionable stare, furrowed brows and pursed lips. “Wh- Am I supposed to be feeling something? Are you pregnant?!” she gasps.  
The blushing girl giggles and hushes her loud mother. “I think so,” she answers, her voice full of happiness though. “I haven’t taken a test or anything– but I just? I feel like I am? Is that crazy, I’m crazy, right? I’m on birth control!”  
“Baby sometimes you just know,” Lucy smiles. “I just knew with Archer,” she shrugs. “Obviously I took a test, but I knew it was positive. Logan women are smart.” She taps her daughter’s nose and she grins. She’s gonna be a grandmother again!

AJ was her little spunky skunk, the complete opposite of Lucy herself, and her twin sister. She had Wyatt’s temper, need for adventure, and zest for danger. At age six she’d demanded that everyone call her AJ, her initials, instead of her given name, Alice, because it was cooler, and had declared that she wanted to chop her two long braids off. From that point, Lucy should’ve known– this kid was trouble, but she going places. She rode a motorcycle and scared the peanuts out of her parents, got her first tattoo as soon as she turned eighteen, and was engaged at twenty. She was not afraid to use her voice. She was wild and stubborn and Lucy loved her to death, even if she was the reason she’d gone grey before fifty. 

“This is nuts,” AJ laughs, flustered, a hand in rooty, bleached hair. “Nolan and I, of course we’ve talked about kids, but we didn’t think we were ready yet?”  
“The world’s got a funny way of telling you when you’re ready, huh?” Lucy grins. “I never thought I was ready for twins, and yet you and your sister were the biggest blessings in my life.”  
“Do twins run in our family?” AJ asks. “Am I in for double trouble too?”  
“You can handle it,” Lucy smiles, patting her shoulder. “You are a rockstar. And you work with kids, they love you!”  
“They think it’s cool that I have drawings on my skin and that I have a funny laugh,” AJ points, that so-called ‘funny laugh’ coming out. “Thanks, mom,” she grins. “Speaking of the rugrats, I should get back to work, can’t leave them for too long or they start getting antsy.”  
“I love you,” Lucy smiles. “Oh, sweetie?” she asks, as her daughter’s gathering her things to leave. “Can you grab the newspaper? It’s on the front steps.” 

AJ smiles sadly, but she just nods. “I will check if it’s here yet,” she agrees simply. She pretends to look out the door, at the steps that weren’t there. “It didn't come yet, Mom.”  
“Your dad will get it when he comes home,” Lucy agrees. “Which should be soon, you’re sure you can’t wait for him?”  
“I can’t, I really have to go,” AJ tells her softly. “I love you.” 

Lucy felt that something wasn’t right as soon as AJ left. She felt it emanating from her, and she felt it in the air even after she left. She didn’t like being home alone, she wanted Wyatt to come home from work. She was used to the kids being home with her, having homeschooled them until they were in high school. Those were the days. Homeschooling during the day, lecturing most nights, laughing all the way. She loved the life she’d had, she’d loved the routine of it. But was years ago, the kids had long since gone off to high school and then college, and past that… and she just missed the days when the house was so full, and full of love. 

“Mrs. Logan?” a kind, flowery voice asks, pulling her from her thoughts. “Sorry to just come in, your door was open. Would you like me to close it for you?”  
“Oh,” Lucy says softly, looking at the open door with a vague look of confusion. “Thank you, dear. W-who are you?”  
Lana responds sweetly, more than used to having to reintroduce herself to patients frequently. “I’m your nurse, Mrs. Logan, my name is Lana.”

Lucy nods as though she understands, but Lana doesn't think she does. “My daughter just told me she’s pregnant,” she mentions, her cheeks glowing with excitement.  
“Oh, that’s amazing!” Lana exclaims. “Which one?” she asks; she knows the Logan kids quite well by now, they’re good kids.  
“AJ,” Lucy responds, a smile on her face, her eyes downcast. “I can’t believe it,” she laments, her voice glossing over. “It doesn’t feel like it was too long ago that she was born… twenty two years...”  
Lana smiles politely. AJ just turned twenty-nine, but she’ll let Lucy keep going. She’s unsure how to continue anyways, milling around the small room, pulling up the covers on Lucy’s bed, fluffing her pillow, straightening the picture frames on the nightstand.  
“My girls were born in the winter,” Lucy continues, “C-section, they were easy peasy. But Archer,” she stops, laughing, “he wasn’t. He was an incredible baby, he wasn’t colicky like my nephew was when he was born or anything like that, but delivering him was a nightmare– a nightmare in 80 degree heat, in October no less. It was sweaty, and sticky… and completely and fulfillingly worth it as soon as I got to hold him. He was worth it. That was a love I’d never known. I’d lost so much by that point… it was nice to have something that was just mine to hold and to keep. Mine and Wyatt’s.” She trails off, laughing lightly. “A love I’d never known,” she repeats. “It changed me forever.” 

There’s a light knock on the door, and Lucy turns her head to find a smirking, sly old fox in her doorway. “I remember that day too,” he speaks up.  
“Hi Mr. Logan,” Lana smiles. “I’ll let you two spend some time together uninterrupted,” she says, excusing herself, making sure to close the day this time. 

“You came home,” Lucy smiles, standing up to give her husband a big hug. She missed him even when he was only gone for a day… and sometimes it was a lot longer than a day. “I told AJ you’d be here soon and that was she should’ve waited for you before dashing off,” she says, slightly scolding her daughter and her impatience.  
“She had to go back to work, Luce,” Wyatt defends her. “It’s alright. I like having time just us.”  
Lucy scrunches her nose and leans in for a kiss. “I love our alone time too but I miss the kids when they’re not around. I miss when they were little and needed us. When they were babies.”  
“Yeah, I do kinda miss that baby stage,” Wyatt admits. “Everyone tells you it’ll go by so fast and you never listen.”  
“We’ll have a baby around again soon,” Lucy points out, “we’ll have AJ’s.”

“Wait, what?!” Wyatt asks, taken aback.  
Lucy covers her mouth quickly. “Oh, shoot, no, Wyatt, crap. I wasn’t supposed to tell you! She wanted to tell you herself, when she’s sure, she’s not even sure yet. She wasn’t going to tell anyone yet except me and Nolan.”  
“It’s okay,” Wyatt laughs. “I’ll just act really surprised when she tells me. How about… this face?” he asks, putting on his best look of shock and anxious excitement.  
Lucy giggles, and leans in to kiss him again. “I love all your faces,” she says, in between locking lips.  
“Yeah, I love all yours too,” he agrees. He laughs. “Remember, when the girls and Arch were little, how many hours we’d spend just making the weirdest faces at them, trying to get them to laugh? It worked, it always did, but man we musta looked crazy.”  
“I miss it,” Lucy repeats. “I didn’t know how much being a mom would change me. But it did.”  
Wyatt nods, his fingers gently moving to push a strand of hair away from his wife’s face. “Me too,” he agrees. He’s the one to initiate the kisses this time. 

Behind him, Lucy looks at the picture she has hanging in a frame on the wall– her and Wyatt, their son, and their daughters. Her family. A love she’d never known. Something that changed her forever. She deepens her kiss with Wyatt, and forever wishes she could be back in that moment, back in that feeling. 

She could only hope she wouldn’t forget what that feeling was one day.

 

III. Forever Loved

She observes the blank, distant stare in the older woman’s eyes. It’s as if she’s staring right through her. She looks confused, almost upset by something, or let down. She doesn’t recognize the three people in her room right now. 

“Mom, what’s wrong?” her daughter asks, her soft voice hanging in the air between them, and gentle hands on her mom’s arms, trying to put her at ease. She was the best in these situations– AJ got emotional at the smallest things and Archer got frustrated too easily; in fact it seemed the more confused their mom was, the more short-tempered Archer became. He didn’t mean to, it was just hard. Especially when his own mother couldn’t remember his name or who he was. One day it would be her own name, and her own identity, that she forgot.  
“Where’s Amy?” Lucy asks softly, after a few moments. “I thought she was coming today. She hasn’t come in so long.”  
“I’m right here, Mom,” Amy responds, just as soft. “I’m right here.” 

Lucy looks all the more confused by that. She doesn’t recognize the girl in front of her, that isn’t Amy, she didn’t even look anything like her. Not to mention Amy was so much louder in demeanor, vibrant, lively. This girl was meek, serene, and older than Amy was. She seems like she cares… but she isn’t Amy. 

“Ames,” AJ tells her twin softly, “She’s not looking for you. She’s looking for Aunt Amy.”  
Her mouth opens slightly in realization, and she nods slightly. This had happened before, Amy wasn’t around when it had, though. That day she hadn’t recognized Wyatt, which made sense. If she thought her sister was still around, it meant Wyatt wasn’t. Lucy had never known a world with both of them in it. Lucy had spent so many of her early days with Wyatt attempting to get Amy and the life she had back that it made sense her mind was still trying to. She had always imagined growing old with Amy by her side. She still wanted that.  
“Oh, of course.” 

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Lucy asks slowly.  
Amy nuzzles her head into her mom’s shoulder, like a cat. That was her thing, physical proximity. She was a snuggler, a cuddler, a hugger, a lover. She thought her touch could bring her mom back, the way skin-to-skin works for new moms with their infants, maybe, to bond them… but all Lucy got out of the encounter was the smell of shampoo, and not the strawberry milkshake scent that she was used to. It wasn’t her sister. She backed away, confused and almost defensive. “Who are you?” 

“I’m your daughter, Mom,” Amy says, both firmly and gently, the way they’d been instructed by the nursing staff to do when Lucy lost touch with her reality. “Amelia, Amy. Your youngest, you named me after Amelia Earhart, and your sister. You lost her in 2016, over thirty years ago.”  
Lucy shakes her head. “She’s not gone,” she argues lightly, a part of her not wanting to accept it. “I-I don’t have children, yet, or a husband to have them with. I’m flattered, you’re beautiful, and you seem very kind, but… I don’t have kids. I have a sister, though, a sister named Amy. She’s younger than me, and smarter too. She went to school for sociology.”  
Amy nods. “She sounds wonderful, I wish I could’ve met her. We all do,” she adds, speaking for herself and her siblings, looking on from a short distance away.  
“What did you go to school for?” Lucy asks, looking at the nice, soft-hearted girl sitting with her.  
“I went to school for history, like you did,” she answers, “and then I did a masters in library science.”  
“That sounds amazing,” Lucy smiles, clearly a little fascinated. She looks past her to the two (strangers) sitting on the end of her bed– the hesitant, hard to read blonde and the dapper brunette boy with beautiful, familiar eyes.  
Archer speaks up first. “I’m a nurse,” he tells her, “I went to UCSF.”  
AJ follows. “Social service,” she answers simply. She wasn’t super interested in reliving her mom’s slight disappointment (though she’d never admit it) that her daughter didn’t go any further than community college, ten minutes from home.  
“The world needs more givers, like you guys,” she answers warmly, reaching both her hands out and taking theirs.  
“You raised us well, Mom,” AJ smiles. 

“You guys are my kids,” Lucy says again, as if repeating the phrase will make her remember that it’s true. “You guys are my kids.” She looks at them, again, as if it’ll make her remember them. Instead, she just sees three kind strangers looking back at her. “And Amy isn’t here.”  
Her daughter Amy nods, reaching a hand out for her mom’s, an invitation for proximity this time. And this time, Lucy accepts, reaching her hand against her daughter’s dark hair, guiding her head back to the crook of her shoulder. She looks at her other two, as if they’re still small and they can all come in close for a hug and there would be room to spare. They’re all willing to try, cramming in together on Lucy’s single bed against the faded wall, all arms and body heat. 

“Can I join?” Wyatt asks, lingering in the doorway, smiling at his family. 

They kept Lucy alive, in all but the physical sense of the word. These kids were her memory, her heart, her legacy. She’d poured everything she had into them, including all the love in her heart. They gave it all right back. She and Wyatt had raised them well, and led by example– they raised givers, empaths, they raised lovers. Surrounded by the four loves of her life, here, crammed together on this bed, Lucy knew one thing for certain. Love was the thing that forever changed her, more than any other quantifiable thing on God’s green earth. Love gave her her family, and even when her memory was slipping through her grasp more with each passing day, she would still feel that. Even when Alzheimer’s took their names away from her– it could not take their love, the very thing that forever changed her.

“We love you, Mom,” Amy whispers.  
“I love you too, kiddos,” Lucy answers.

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with the A Team– Archer, AJ, and Amy– I wanna write more with them, please send some suggestions of things you'd wanna read about them and their life! Drop a comment here or send me a message or ask on Tumblr @only-freakin-sunflowers :)


End file.
